Marching on Niagara: or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier

To add to English alarm, the war in Europe also took a turn in favor of the French. This brought a storm of protests upon the English ministry, and George II. was compelled to make a change. As a consequence William Pitt was placed in entire control of foreign and colonial affairs.

Pitt was a man of both wisdom and action, and his plans for a new campaign in America aroused the colonies as they had not been aroused before. An army of fifty thousand men, English regulars and colonial militia, was gathered, and it was resolved that a three-headed campaign should be instituted at once, one against Louisburg, another against Ticonderoga and a third against Fort Duquesne.

The first blow was struck early in June, 1758, when the English appeared before Louisburg with thirty-eight ships of war and an army of fourteen thousand men. There was a vigorous attack, and something of a siege, and late in July the place capitulated, and this fall also included the capture of the islands of Prince Edward and Cape Breton.

The advance upon Ticonderoga was not so successful, although a portion of the troops under gallant Israel Putnam, afterwards so famous in the Revolution, dispersed some of the French and captured a hundred and forty-eight prisoners. Following this, an attack was made upon Fort Frontenac, located where the city of Kingston, Canada, is now situated, and here the English laid the fort in ruins and captured nine vessels carrying guns and supplies.

The people of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania were anxious that the attack on Fort Duquesne be made at once, but as we already know, the armies, especially such as had to march through the wilderness, moved very slowly. The command of this expedition was placed in the hands of General Forbes, a gallant officer but one who was far from being in proper health for such an undertaking. This general left Philadelphia early in July with the main portion of his command, and after a hard march reached Raytown, ninety miles eastward of Fort Duquesne, and now known as Bedford.

While General Forbes was thus moving westward Colonel Washington, who had been ordered to join the main command, gathered together all his available troops and moved northward from Winchester to Fort Cumberland, called in these pages by its, then, common name of Will's Creek.

The spring had passed slowly to those of the Morris family located at Winchester. Strange to say although Joseph Morris' wound healed it seemed next to impossible for the pioneer to get back his strength, and the most he could do was to walk around the rooms of the Gibson home, or around the dooryard, supported by his wife or others.

"My legs won't support me," he said. "They feel as if they'd let me down in a heap at any minute."

"It is the effects of the fever," said Mrs. Morris. "The doctor says you will have to take it easy for several months."

Rodney, too, had suffered from the march through the forest and from the fighting and was confined more or less to the house.

"It's a shame – and just after I thought I was getting so strong," sighed the cripple. "Somehow, we seem to be an ill-fated family."

During all those dreary months no direct word had come to them concerning little Nell, but through White Buffalo had come a report that a certain tribe of Indians known as the Little Waters had several white girls in their keeping and that one old Indian chief had taken one of the captives as his daughter, he being childless.

"If they take 'em in as their children they'll treat 'em putty civil-like," said Sam Barringford. "But I reckon you don't want to lose little Nell even so."

"No! no!" said Mrs. Morris. "Oh, we must get her back somehow!"

After this news was brought in, Barringford and Dave's father went north-westward once more, in the hope of opening negotiations with the Indians. How this trip would turn out was still a question, although White Buffalo declared that little could be done so long as the war hatchet remained unburied between the English and the French Indians.

As soon as the new call came for additional troops to the colonial militia, Dave signified his intention of once more entering the service under his old commander, Colonel Washington. About this he did not hesitate to see Washington personally.

"I'll be glad to have you with us," said Washington, after the youth had explained matters. "I remember how you acted in our other campaign against Fort Duquesne, and I haven't forgotten, Master David, how we shot the bear," – this with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, join us by all means if you care to do so." And Dave signed the muster roll that day, – as a colonial militiaman, at a salary of ten-pence a day, twopence to be deducted for clothing and other necessaries! This was the regular rate of pay, and for those days was considered quite fair.

It must be confessed that the troops under Colonel Washington formed a motley collection. Many of the best of the pioneers and frontiersmen had grown tired of the delays in the past and now refused to re-enlist, fearful that they would be called on to do nothing but wait around the fort, while the summer harvests at home demanded their attention. Drumming up recruits proved the hardest kind of work, and the companies were made up in some cases of men who knew not the meaning of home life – hardy trappers and traders, some industrious enough, but others given to drink and brawling, and not a few who lived almost as the Indians did, using the redmen's style of dress and occasionally painting their faces, "jes' fer the sport on't," as they expressed it. When it came to fighting these men were like human tigers, but in camp and on the march it was next to impossible to bring them under military discipline. Many refused to carry rations as the regular soldiers did, preferring to bring down game as they needed it, and if game was not handy they appropriated a pig or a cow belonging to some settler – thus bringing additional trouble on the command.

"So you are going with the soldiers," said Henry, when Dave told him of what he had done. "Well, if you go I shall go too – that is, if mother will let me."

Henry put in the proviso with an anxious look on his face, for he knew how difficult would be his task of getting his parent's consent.

"No, no, Henry!" cried Mrs. Morris. "With your father and Rodney so ill, and with Nell gone, how can I spare you?"

"But, mother, somebody has got to fight the French," insisted the son. "If we don't fight them, and whip them, how shall we ever get back to our home? I don't want to give all that up, do you?"

A long argument followed, and at last Mrs. Morris said she would let her son know about it in the morning.

White Buffalo came in that night with news. "The Little Waters have gone to the setting sun, to the French," he said. "White Buffalo has been told they will remain there until winter comes again."

"To Fort Duquesne!" cried Dave. "I'm glad of it. Now if we take that fort perhaps we'll be able to rescue Nell and the Rose twins."

This news decided Mrs. Morris, and with tears standing in her eyes she told Henry he might go with Dave and Colonel Washington. "And may God grant that you return with Nell safe and sound," she added.

A few days later found the two young soldiers on the march. It was something of a gala day for Winchester, and the post was gay with flags and bunting. The long drums rolled and the fifes piped up cheerily as the command passed out of the town and on the trail running northward to Cumberland. Many were in the best of spirits, hoping that the downfall of Fort Duquesne would be speedily accomplished.

The town was scarcely left behind however, before the music came to an end, and the command moved on by the route step – that is, every soldier stepping out to suit himself. This was necessary, for the way was rough, having fallen into disuse since the beginning of the troubles with the Indians.

"I heard a report that we are not to use the old Braddock road to Fort Duquesne," said Henry, as he trudged alongside of Dave. "Colonel Washington advised using it, but General Forbes is going to cut a road of his own."

"If he does that we'll be all fall and winter getting to the fort," answered Dave. "How foolish not to use a road already made."

"It's queer they won't take Colonel Washington's advice. He knows this territory better than anybody."

"There is a good deal of military jealousy afloat," was the answer. "English officers hate to see a colonial get ahead of them. They want to head the whole game."

The second night out the troops encamped near a large brook. It was hot and Dave and Henry were glad enough to take a swim in the stream as soon as they got the chance. They were soon in the water and diving and sporting to their heart's content. Then Henry caught a branch hanging over the water's edge and pulled himself up into the tree.

"See what a fine dive I can take from here," he called to his cousin.

"Don't you do it," cried Dave. "You may go too deep and strike your head on a rock."

"I'll be careful," was Henry's answer. "Here goes!"

With a quick movement he leaped from one limb to another. As the second limb gave a sudden swish Henry uttered a cry of alarm. Then he came tumbling into the water with a loud splash. After him tumbled a wildcat, snarling in rage at being thus unceremoniously disturbed. The wildcat struck close to where Dave was treading water and on the instant made a leap for the young soldier's shoulder.

CHAPTER XVIII

WILDCAT AND WATER

Dave was both startled and alarmed when the wildcat came down almost on top of his bare head, and even more frightened when the beast made a leap for his naked shoulder. He had had several experiences with wildcats and knew them to be both powerful and bloodthirsty.

By instinct more than reason he dived and went down as far as possible. As soon as the water closed over the wildcat's head it let go its hold and began to swim for the shore.

Henry was directly in the path of the beast and in a second more, ere the young soldier had time to think of diving, the wildcat was on his back, sinking its cruel nails deeply into his flesh.

"Get off!" screamed Henry. "Get off! Help! help!"

And then he went down, not because he thought of doing so, but because he could not bear the weight. The stream closed over him and he went directly to the bottom.

This time the wildcat did not let go its hold. It clung desperately and when Henry tried to shake it off it only sunk its nails deeper into his flesh. Mechanically he started to scream, when the water rushed into his mouth, almost strangling him on the spot.

By this time Dave had reached the surface, and the rings and bubbles showed him plainly where Henry and the wildcat had gone down. With swift strokes he swam to the river bank, just as several rangers came running to the scene.

"Did you call for help?" asked one.

"A wildcat!" panted Dave, hardly able to speak, and he pointed out into the stream. "Sa – save my cousin!"

"So a cat has attacked him, eh?" said one of the rangers. He raised his gun. "Don't see anything of the critter."

Just as he finished speaking there was a splash in the water and the head of the wildcat appeared. Then up came Henry, and they saw that the beast still clung to the young hunter's back.

It was a risky shot to take, for youth and beast floundered around furiously. But something had to be done, and in a second one gun-shot rang out, followed quickly by another. The aims of both rangers had been true, and the wildcat was struck in the forequarter and in the head. With a snarl and a sputter it let go its hold of Henry and splashed madly around in the water.

No cry came from Henry, but as soon as the beast had let go its hold he sank beneath the surface once more, too weak to do anything toward saving himself.

"He'll be drowned!" muttered Dave. "Save him!" And without waiting he plunged in the river once more.

He felt deathly weak himself, but the thought that his cousin might be lost forever nerved him on. With set teeth he swam to the spot. Catching sight of Henry's arm as it was thrown up, he grabbed at the member and clung fast.

"Henry, hold to me," he managed to say, but his cousin paid no attention, for he was more than half insensible. Then Dave tried to raise him up, but the weight was more than he could sustain.

"Help us, somebody!" the young hunter managed to call out, and there followed a splash, as one of the rangers leaped into the river. Another shot rang out, a finishing one for the wildcat, and the carcass of the beast floated down the river and out of sight among the bushes lining the opposite bank.

By the time the ranger came up, Dave was nearly as far gone as Henry. The old soldier was a powerful fellow and easily brought both to the bank, which was only a short distance off. Here Dave sank down in a heap, while the other soldiers did what they could to revive Henry.

The report that a wildcat had attacked some bathers quickly spread throughout the camp and many flocked in that direction to learn the particulars. Both Dave and Henry were given the best of attention, and by the following morning each said he was able to resume his duties. But both were stiff from the treatment received from the wild beast and on Henry's neck were deep scratches which he was destined to carry with him to the grave.

"After this I'm going to be mighty particular where I bathe," he said to Dave, when on the march.

"Yes, and particular where you dive from," returned Dave. "If you see another wildcat on your spring-board better let him finish his nap without disturbing him."

The march to Cumberland was more difficult than had been anticipated, and the young soldiers were glad when it came to an end and they found themselves encamped just outside of the fort, which both had visited more than once when on a trip to Will's Creek. Soldiers were coming in from all directions, and soon the camp was full to overflowing.

"Wonder how long we'll stay here," said Henry, after they had been at Cumberland over a week. "I had an idea we were to march straight on to Fort Duquesne."

"There is some trouble over that new road to the fort," answered Dave. "I understand Colonel Washington is awfully cut up over it. He thinks they ought to use the old Braddock road and polish up the Frenchmen in short order."

"It was the delay that brought on defeat before, that's certain, Dave. It's a pity the British generals won't take Washington's advice."

What Dave said about trouble over the road was true. The Braddock road, originally selected by the Indians, was as good as any to be had or made, yet despite all arguments against it, it was decided to cut a new road through to Fort Duquesne from Raytown. It was true such a road would be a little shorter than the old road, but to cut it would take all summer and to keep up the campaign during the winter would be well-nigh out of the question.

When a part of the colonial troops, including the company to which Dave and Henry were attached, reached Raytown they found the new road already started, with two hundred men engaged in cutting down trees, removing big stones, and burning brushwood. This was kept up week after week, and in the meantime the troops suffered greatly through sickness and lack of proper food. Many of the colonials grew disgusted at the slow progress of the campaign and would have gone home had not the military regulations forbidden it.

It was in the midst of this that Sam Barringford came in and hunted up Henry and Dave. "Thought you'd like to set eyes on me," he said, on shaking hands. "Jes' got in with Dave's father. We did some tall hunting I kin tell ye."

"And Nell?" asked Henry, quickly.

"She's a prisoner up to Fort Duquesne. We got thet putty straight."

"Not of the French?"

"No, of the Injuns hangin' around thar – the Jean Bevoir crowd, as Dave's father calls 'em – a bad lot, too."

Barringford had decided to take part in the campaign now in progress and it can well be imagined that the two young soldiers were right glad to have their trusty old friend with them once more.

"It will seem like old times," said Dave. "If only we could move ahead to-morrow!"

It was late in October when Dave brought in news. He rushed up to where Henry and Barringford were industriously sewing up some holes in their jackets.

"Hurrah, we are to move at last!" he cried. "Major Grant is ordered ahead with eight hundred men, and our company is to go with the body."

"Only eight hundred," returned Barringford. "Thet ain't many. Kind o' a scoutin' party, I reckon."

Yet, he too was glad to make a movement of any kind, and prepared at once for the departure. Two days later the command was on the road, those left behind wishing them the best of success.

The English were still many miles from Fort Duquesne when the French scouts brought word to their commander that the enemy were approaching. Without waiting to be attacked the French marched forth to do the approaching English battle.

"The fight is on!" cried Dave, as several shots rang out from in front. "We are in for it now!"

"Well, we came to fight," answered Henry. "And the sooner the battle is over the better."

The real battle, however, did not take place until the next day. Then the French did their best to surround the English, and in a short while the contest waxed hot on all sides. Part of the battleground was a small opening and the rest of the fighting took place in the forest. Soon the smoke became so thick that but little could be seen on either side.

"Tell ye wot, them Frenchers mean business!" ejaculated Barringford, while reloading his firearm, which was so hot he could scarcely hold it. "We've lost a sight o' men already."

What he said was true. The loss had been frightful, and the dead and dying lay on every side. Moans and shrieks rent the air, in a fashion to turn the stoutest heart sick. Major Grant rushed around heedless of danger, giving directions and doing all he could to encourage those under him.

"Don't retreat! The battle is ours!" he called out. "Stand where you are!" And then his voice was lost in the rattle of musketry and the mad yelling of the Indians, who had come up to aid the French and steal what they could from the English.

Dave, Henry and Barringford were behind a fallen tree, blazing away as rapidly as possible. The French were before them and the Indians on their left, and for some time it was as if pandemonium had broken loose. Suddenly Barringford gave a yell.

"Duck, boys, duck!"

They fell flat and not a second too soon, for half a dozen arrows whizzed over their heads. Then the old frontiersman leaped to his feet.

"I'll pay ye back!" he roared. "That fer ye, ye sarpints o' the Evil One!"

He took a quick but careful aim at the leader of the Indians, who was rushing straight forward, with tomahawk lifted. The hammer of his flint-lock musket fell. A terrific explosion followed and Barringford was hurled flat while Dave and Henry were also struck and knocked down. The gun had exploded.

Then before any of the party could recover, the Indians were upon them, shouting like demons and flourishing their tomahawks and their keen-edged hunting knives.

CHAPTER XIX

DEFEAT OF THE ENGLISH

The explosion of the musket had been so unexpected that for the moment Dave and Henry hardly knew what had happened. Dave felt something hit him on the bottom of his left cheek and putting up his hand withdrew it covered with blood. Henry, too, was hit by a flying fragment of the gun barrel which clipped off a lock of his hair. Poor Barringford lay like one dead.

Before Dave could recover the Indians were on them, whooping as if their very lives depended upon it. One threw a tomahawk at Dave, but the aim was poor and the weapon buried itself in the log which had sheltered our friends.

But just at this moment, when all seemed lost, the battleground shifted and instantly thirty or forty English red-coats burst from the woods directly behind the Indians. A volley rang out and four of the redmen pitched forward, shot through the back. Other bullets hit the log behind which our friends lay, but Dave, Henry, and Barringford were not touched.

Attacked so unexpectedly from a new quarter, the Indians appeared dazed. They attempted to turn upon the English soldiers, but when two more were laid low, they fled to one side, where there was a dense growth of walnuts. The soldiers at once made after them, and another skirmish took place in the forest.

"Are you hurt much, Sam?" asked Henry, when he had recovered sufficiently to speak.

"I – I reckon not," was the gasped-out answer, after a long silence. Barringford opened his eyes and gazed ruefully at the gun stock which lay at his feet. "Busted! Well, by gum! Didn't think Old Trusty would do it nohow. Ain't ye ashamed?" And he shook his head dolefully. He had carried the firearm for many years, as our old readers know, and to have it "go back on him" like this hurt him more than had the explosion.

"It singed your beard pretty well," said Dave. "You can be thankful it didn't blow your face to pieces."

"We must get out of here!" cried Henry. "See, the French are coming!"

Henry was right, the French column had suddenly appeared on the brow of a neighboring hill. Those of the English who were in view received a galling fire and then the enemy came forward with a rush. Our friends were glad enough to retreat, and join the main body of rangers once more.

Unfortunately for the English, Major Grant had divided his force and now as the French commander came on he ordered that the smaller of the English commands be surrounded. This was done, and though Major Grant did his best to bring his command together again, it was impossible to do so. The English became hopelessly separated, and by the time the fighting came to an end the major and a large number of his officers and men were made prisoners.

"We are catching it and no mistake," panted Dave, after another stand had been made, during which Barringford had provided himself with another gun – one taken from the hands of a dead grenadier. "The French mean business."

"Here they come again!" exclaimed Henry. "Look! look! they seem to have re-enforcements!"

Henry was right, and it must be admitted that the attack of the French, with the Indians on the left flank, was a superb one. The shock of the two armies coming together was terrific, and soon hand-to-hand encounters were taking place in hundreds of places at once. Guns and pistols rattled constantly and the keen frosty air of late fall was filled with smoke. The grass being wet with dew many slipped and fell and not a few soldiers were trampled to death by frightened horses. It was a scene not easily forgotten and reminded Dave strongly of that other battle when General Braddock had suffered bitter defeat and death.

And bitter defeat was again to be the portion of the English. Major Grant's force was not strong enough to resist the combined onslaught of French and Indians, and at last word came to retreat, and in the gathering darkness the English fell back, taking with them a number of their wounded. How many of the wounded were left on that cold battlefield to die from exposure will never be known. Snow was now falling and a wind came up that chilled every soldier to the bone.

"It's another Braddock victory," said Barringford, sarcastically, as he limped painfully along, a horse having stepped on the toes of his left foot. "Them reg'lars don't understand fightin' in the woods nohow. Ye hev got to fight Injuns Injun fashion, an' French likewise. 'Twon't do no good to set yerself up like a target to be shot at."

"We have lost about three hundred men, killed, wounded and captured," said Dave. "I wonder what General Forbes will say to that?"

"I fancy he's too sick to say much," said Henry. He spoke thus for General Forbes had been on a sick bed for several weeks and had had to be carried forward on a litter whenever his command moved.

The news that Major Grant's command had been whipped and driven back, and the major and many of his officers taken prisoners, was quickly sent to General Forbes, and at once a council of war was held. It was decided that the entire army should be sent forward without delay, and the soldiers moved onward as rapidly as the state of the road permitted. By the time the re-enforcements arrived the French and Indians had retreated to Fort Duquesne, for additional ammunition and general supplies, and to take care of their wounded and prisoners.